The Big O and all of its settings and characters are owned by Cartoon Network, Sunrise, and Bandai Visual.

Opening theme song by Rui Nagai

THE BIG O:

ACT 28

SCAPEGOAT

Big-O!

Big-O! Big-O! Big-O!

Big-O!

Big-O! Big-O! Big-O!

Cast in the name of God!

Negotiator

Ye not the guilty!

Android

We have come to terms!

Butler

Big-O!

Officer

Big-O!

Big-O! Big-O! Big-O!

Big-O!

Big-O! Big-O! -O! -O! Big-O!

Chapter One: Roger's Journal

My name is Roger Smith, I perform a necessary job here in the city of Amnesia. Not the most promising start for a journal entry, but it had to get better from here. This city, Paradigm City, is a city of Forgetfulness. One day 40 years ago, every human and every robot lost all memory of all events, everything that happened prior to that day. True but irrelevant. But humans are adaptable creatures, they make do and go on living. Not only irrelevant, but useless too. Memories are like nightmares. They can appear when you least expect them. True, and downright chilling.

Roger closed his eyes and allowed the sand flowing through the hourglasses on his desk to calm him. He was thumbing through his diary, tying to make sense of the time that had passed since he had met R Dorothy Wayneright.

Nearly everyone who could read and write kept a diary. They used it to write down notable events and their innermost secrets. The danger of a journal being used for blackmail material didn't stop the citizens of Paradigm City. Most people, whether they admitted it or not, were afraid that whatever happened forty years ago could happen again, and they wanted to leave themselves information on who they were and what life was like before their memories were lost. The trick of course was to make sure that the right person found the right diary, or they might accidentally assume someone else's identity. Aside of putting photographs of the journal's owner inside, no one had really found a satisfactory solution for that problem.

When did everything start to go wrong? Roger had mentally nick-named the last year, "The Year God Discovered Crack", because it seemed that life had stopped making sense after Dorothy Wayneright entered his life. Now, as he flipped through the pages of his journal, it was possible that the Almighty had been addicted to dangerous narcotics for years.

When did it really start to go wrong? If he had to guess he would say that it happened when Ellen Waite had been assassinated by Red Destiny, Dorothy Wayneright's homicidal twin. Miss Waite was the first of many young men and women who had been assassinated for carrying memories from forty years ago. At the scene of each crime was written the words: "Cast in the name of God… Ye not guilty". The same words that scrolled across Big O's screen every time he went into battle.

Apparently the murders unlocked buried memories that Roger could have done without. Visions of barcodes, a horde of megadeuses attacking a city, books being burned, and bald children staring into fires haunted him, even a premonition of his confrontation with Red Destiny in the train tunnel.

After his encounter with Dorothy's doppelganger, things didn't get better. During the fight with three foreign megadeuses, he believed he was a homeless drifter in a version of Paradigm City before the Event that had erased the memories of its citizens and all but destroyed the human race. By the time he confronted his fears and snapped back to reality, Big O had lost an arm and Roger had nearly lost his life.

The three megadeuses contained parts of Big Fau, a white megadeus that the chairman of the Paradigm Corporation was obsessed with operating. Alex Rosewater even executed a coup, despite the fact that it was he and Paradigm who in reality had all the power! The Union, a secretive band of rebels devoted to destroying Paradigm City and all that it built, were just pawns in the end.

Rosewater had manipulated them into doing most of his dirty work. They had assassinated nearly all of the founding senators of Paradigm, removing the old guard his father Gordon had placed in positions of power so Alex could replace them with his own followers. They had delivered the parts needed to reconstruct Big Fau, allowing Alex Rosewater to play God with a giant weapon of mass destruction. They had even provided an excuse to attack Paradigm City and institute martial law. For a group that hated Alex and all that he stood for, they had been an incredibly cooperative bunch.

Big Fau was more than Roger had expected. Alex had obviously done his homework, because he knew right where to hit Big O: in the cockpit. One punch was enough to crack the protective cover of the Big O's collar and stun Roger into unconsciousness. Rosewater then had Big Fau send Roger and Big O to the bottom of the sea.

It was then that the world ceased to be real for him. He was swallowed by hallucinations, just as when he was battling the three foreign megadeuses. He saw Big O sink through a strange world of gears and buildings, a dead zone whose only inhabitants were the fish and, perhaps, the memories of those who had lived there in the distant past. He saw a light from above. He saw the photograph of a young Gordon Rosewater and a man who looked exactly like himself, right down the style of his double breasted suit. He saw himself wandering the gleaming streets that Paradigm City had possessed in the past, before the disaster that left the world without memories. He saw hundreds of Big Os, their dull black armor gleaming in the light of both laser and fire, charging forth to battle, while crimson duplicates of Big Duo flew through the air, the lights of their fire burning in the sky. He saw the Big O, sitting upon an endless heap of damaged and inoperative megadeuses. Inside its cracked shell, Roger Smith saw himself, strapped to the control seat and apparently dead. He saw a robot factory. In it, he saw robotic skeletons passing through a machine of some sort. When they exited the other side, Roger saw to his horror that they looked just like him, black suit and all. He saw a child, her pink sleeved arms up near the screen of a television. On the television, he saw himself, calling Big O as he had done so many times in the past.

He thought that Dorothy had revived him with her tank of oxygen, but his hallucinations didn't stop when he awoke. He somehow knew that Gordon Rosewater had given the blonde bombshell who called herself Angel the power to rewrite both the past and the present. It was as if Paradigm City was a product of her subconscious, a giant stage for unwitting actors to play their parts. The sky had been replaced by a roof with giant stage lights. Then it was replaced by a giant glowing grid. Dorothy allowed him to access a cannon that blew Big Fau in half, then a ghostly megadeus that the injured android called 'Big Venus' came and caused the entire city to vanish.

His next memory was driving through the streets of Paradigm City on his way to his first meeting with Dorothy Wayneright and Jason Beck. Nevermind the fact that he passed Angel and Dorothy on the way. Nevermind the fact that he was the android, not Dorothy, and Jason Beck took him apart and put him into a car trunk. Nevermind the fact that everything he was experiencing was impossible.

When he came to, he discovered that many of his visions were real. Big Fau had been blown in half. Paradigm City had been attacked from above, and many of its domes were cracked open like broken eggshells. R Dorothy Wayneright really was standing behind Big O's command chair wearing a wetsuit, despite the fact that without her main memory, it was impossible for her to move about. If his experiences weren't real then how did she get there? How did he defeat Big Fau?

How much was real and how much was hallucination? If it was all a hallucination, what was causing it and was there any way to save his sanity? If any of it was real how much of it was true and how much was false? If all of it was real, how does one survive in a world gone completely insane?

Roger turned to a blank page and started writing. Theory One: My recent experiences were completely fictitious, the result of stress, delusion, or insanity. Below that sentence he divided the next part of the page into two columns by drawing a line in the middle. On the left side he wrote: Plus: What I experienced is not only impossible, but contradictory. On the other side he wrote: Minus: Despite being the 'domineus' of Big O and center of my own existence, I perceived Angel as being the one to make the decisions that affected reality, not me. Would my ego really let someone else be the symbol of all mankind and our ability to shape our destinies?

On the 'plus' column he added: Hallucinations could be based on Gordon Rosewater's ramblings. That could explain it. Gordon Rosewater planted ideas in his head when he rescued the old man and Angel from Vera Ronstadt. The stress of the battle combined with the near death experience could have caused Roger to hallucinate. Maybe his brain wasn't getting enough oxygen in that damaged cockpit.

On another page he wrote Theory Two: Paradigm City is not real. It is a stage in which we are forced to repeat history for an unknown purpose. Once again he divided the page in half. Roger had to admit that he didn't like this one. The idea that no one in Paradigm City had control over their own destiny and that they were all unwitting actors on an enormous stage stuck in his craw. Nonetheless he had to explore this possibility, or more importantly, why he felt it was a possibility.

On the left column he wrote: Plus: The comic strip that I encountered as a drifter. The stage during the summary of how I met Big O. My hallucinations concerning Angel and Gordon Rosewater. On the right column he wrote: Minus: No evidence of such a cycle. The buildings in the illegal residence zones are over forty years old indicating that they existed prior to the Event. No evidence of an audience or a reason for such a bizarre and long-term pageant to play out.

It seemed as if his insecurities of whether or not he was Roger Smith or just an unwitting actor playing the role was just as great in his second grand hallucination as when he imagined himself as a homeless drifter. Both times before each hallucination he had spoken to Gordon Rosewater, who alleged that everything that he had written his unfinished book, Metropolis, was a lie.

Of course he did. As the founder of the post amnesia civilization, Gordon Rosewater was the prime suspect for whatever calamity robbed the world of its memories in the first place wasn't he? Did anyone really believe that it was mere coincidence that after the Event Gordon found himself in a position to create a new society and own more money than God? It was natural for him to claim that his tales of a war fought with giant robots never happened and to imply that the entire world of Paradigm City was false. Before his stroke or whatever made him senile, he probably remembered enough to know that he was guilty as sin for destroying whatever civilization existed before the Event. Gordon never admitted anything. He simply claimed that everything was false, and because he was lying, it was easy to believe nothing that he had ever revealed was true.

It made sense. Gordon all but admitted that he had been implanting memories from before the event into orphan children for years. If Roger was getting too close… close enough to actually approach the great Gordon Rosewater for answers, then what better way throw off the investigation than to utter a cryptic phrase that would trigger a posthypnotic suggestion? Gordon would know what to say in order to release memories, including memories that didn't make sense or weren't successfully implanted in the first place. A good theory, it would be better if the theory had a shred of evidence to back it up.

Roger sighed and wrote on a third page. Theory Three: I was one of the children Gordon placed memories in. Plus: Flashbacks that do not belong to me. Memories of a Paradigm City before the Event. Barcodes, Children staring into flames, etc. Minus: The photograph showing a younger Gordon Rosewater and myself apparently supervising the construction of the domes.

He sighed, for he felt obligated to write down the fourth theory, absurd as it might be. Theory Four: I am at over sixty years old and had my memories modified so that I could live in the present day. Plus: The photograph. Gordon's reference to having made a deal with a Roger Smith forty years ago. Roger's hand began to tremble at this point. The vision of a Roger Smith factory could mean that there is something unnatural about me. Stretching it. His hand was shaking so much it was getting hard to read his writing now. The fact that I quit the force years ago but I still appear to be in my midtwenties. That was it. He had to stop writing before he had a panic attack.

"Norman!" he shouted.

"Yes Master Roger?" the reply called in cultured tones. Roger was not aware that Norman Burg was in the room, but he had ceased to be amazed at his butler's ability to anticipate his needs and appear within seconds when summoned.

"Bring me a bourbon, and give it a bourbon chaser," he snapped, his black gloved hands pushing his jet-black hair off his forehead. He was sweating, almost panting. Okay, he was panting. Dammit, he really needed that drink!

"Double order of bourbon, on the rocks," the tall, elderly butler put a glass tumbler on a saucer and placed on the table to Roger's right. Sure enough, it was filled with whiskey and ice cubes. Roger didn't even hear the bottle open.

He took a swig, groaned and leaned back in his chair and loosened his tie. "Thanks, Norman," he sighed. "Sorry I snapped at you."

"That's alright, sir," Norman replied gently. "What with the current situation the way it is, I suppose that we are all on edge."

"The current situation?" Roger repeated, raising one of his unique eyebrows. "What situation?"

"The riots, Master Roger," Norman clarified, a grave expression in the eye that wasn't covered by a patch. He held up the morning's newspaper. The headline quite clearly stated 'RIOTS RAVAGE PARADIGM'.

"How long has this been going on?" Roger asked as he took the newspaper to read it.

"For the last few days," Norman shrugged. "It appears that the populace have finally overcome the shock of Big Fau's attack."

"But they haven't gotten over their outrage," Roger frowned as he skimmed the paper.

The situation was predictable, when Roger thought about it. He really should have seen it coming. When Alex Rosewater, Gordon's insane son, attacked the city in his white megadeus, he didn't just assault the poor living outside the domes. He attacked the domed neighborhoods too. The only dome he spared was the one that held his palace, Paradigm Headquarters. Big O apparently hit that one with his 'Final Stage' cannon on accident when it blew Big Fau in half. That meant that there wasn't a district or neighborhood in Paradigm City that wasn't damaged somehow.

Worse yet, while attacking the city with aerial bombardment, Alex had ordered the military police to support the coup. In a final act of hubris, he had images of himself as the head of the 'New Order' broadcast to every television in Paradigm. Everyone who had seen the propaganda knew who was in the white megadeus attacking the city. Everyone knew that the Paradigm Corporation had turned on them.

The Paradigm Corporation was the backbone of the city; the framework of what was possibly the last bastion of civilization. In the chaos after the Event that took everyone's memories, Gordon Rosewater created a capitalist society where money equaled power. In theory, it was possible to climb socially if one had enough wealth.

Alex Rosewater, Gordon's heir, had decided to change things. The idea of a system of checks and balances didn't appeal to him. Neither did one where the Corporation was greater than any one man. He decided to eradicate that civilization, and replace it with one where he would have absolute control and undeniable power. He nearly destroyed what was left of humanity before Big O, Dorothy, and Roger stopped him.

Almost three weeks had passed after that battle, and now the shock had worn off and the citizens of the city were rising up in protest. Alex had attacked both rich and poor, had assaulted the respectable along with the untouchable. What was supposed to be a coup was threatening to turn into a civil war.

"Hm," Roger smirked. "I expect that we will be hearing from the Paradigm Corporation soon."

"It seems inevitable sir," Norman nodded.

"Well, then, here are my instructions," Roger opened a drawer on his desk and handed a sheet of paper to his butler.

Norman's single remaining eye widened in surprise as he read his orders. "I say," he said hesitantly after he read them a second time. "Isn't this… a little irregular?"

"These are irregular times," Roger shrugged.

"I suppose they are," Norman allowed, "but it seems unlikely that the members of the board will be willing to acquiesce to your request."

"Then tough on them," Roger smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "I'm through coming when they call. Alex Rosewater summoned me to his palace and I came like a good little boy. I'm not their errand boy any more. If they want my services, they can get them on my terms."

Norman wasn't sure if he liked the idea of his master picking a fight with the almighty Paradigm Corporation. "I'm sure they would be willing to pay a reasonable amount of money…"

"After the stunt that Rosewater pulled, we'll be lucky if money will be worth more than kindling when all this is over!" the negotiator snapped. "We better get the mansion ready for siege conditions. Who knows if civilization will even exist in a month or two?"

Knowing when his master had made up his mind, Norman bowed in surrender. "Very well, Master Roger. I'm sure you know best."

Meanwhile in the bar known as the Speak Easy, the burly bartender and his closest friends were boarding up the doors and windows. They had stockpiled food, water, and booze so they could live there for months even if the power went out. The only thing they had to worry about was looters breaking in. They had a television and a police radio scanner, so they would know when order was restored and they could resume business. They didn't know when the crisis would pass but they were confident it would. Over the years the city had been hit by a meteor, giant robots, riots, monsters, and floods. To these hardened men without families or other attachments, this was just one more storm to weather.

In a corner, the old man that Roger only knew as 'Big Ear' read the newspaper, slowly. Next to him on a table were a stack of newspapers containing all the crosswords puzzles Paradigm Press had published since the last crisis that sent Paradigm City into a state of extended emergency. His earphones were still in place, keeping him connected with the outside world. He ignored the pounding of the hammers as if he was either deaf or worked in construction all his life.

Suddenly the sound of hammers was replaced by the sound of splitting wood. An unfinished barricade was torn asunder by a man wearing pantyhose over his face and wielding a fire axe. "I'm Cannibal Cal!" the man shouted after he chopped his way into the bar. As the bartender and his fellows backed away the axe wielding man cried out. "And I'm coming to eat yuh!"

On a desk filled with hourglasses a phone rings. Norman's hand picks up the receiver and a sinister voice says:

Next: Invitation